


Moods

by Duckay



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7571458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckay/pseuds/Duckay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler is in a mood where he doesn't want to be helped out of it. Fandango helps him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moods

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr prompt from gott-sein -- "You're so cute when you pout like that." for FaBreeze.

“You’re so cute when you pout like that.”  
Fandango’s words came at a whisper into

Tyler’s ear. A small thrill shot up his spine at the teasing sensation of the warm breath at his skin, and he couldn’t really help himself but to lean into the older man’s touch as he felt an arm slide around his waist from behind.

“Don’t say that,” Tyler whined, and it was a whine, too, damn it. He’d hoped his voice would come out stronger than that. He pushed Fandango away with one arm, though he couldn’t really say that he wanted the embrace to end. He just felt like being contrary, felt like putting as much distance between himself and other people as possible. Felt like putting other people in a bad mood to match his. Fandango would try to cheer him up, and probably succeed. That just wasn’t _fair_.

“What, Prince Pretty doesn’t want to be told how cute he is?” His voice was soft and teasing, and Tyler could feel his face twisting into a renewed pout that was probably twice as cute as the previous one.

“No, Prince Pretty doesn’t want to be told how cute he is,” Tyler retorted waspishly, arms folded across his chest as he sunk down onto the lounge. “Prince Pretty wants to be left alone.”

It was a nice lounge, more than big enough for two. Tyler had secretly admired it when they first booked the hotel suite because of how well the colour complemented Fandango’s skin tone. Before everything else had happened, he’d idly fantasized about the hours they could spend making love on it. Now that seemed… well, it still seemed like a pretty good idea, honestly. Provided that Fandango could stop trying to cheer him up long enough to try to seduce him instead. And provided that he could bring himself to stop being petulant for long enough to accept the advance, which he wasn’t sure that he could do. Problem was that once Tyler started being petulant it was difficult to find a good stopping point.

He flopped onto his back anyway, letting out his ponytail and shaking his hair out around his face as he did so. It looked good, he knew it looked good, and so it was really strange that Fandango wasn’t looking at him like he was any more inclined to seduce Tyler than he had beforehand. In fact, he looked concerned.

Fandango sat down on the floor next to the lounge, a hand curling around Tyler’s knee. “Do you need to talk? What’s got into you?”

That wasn’t what Tyler wanted at all. They weren’t going to get anywhere by talking out Tyler’s problems. Besides, what was he going to say?

_Fandango, it’s really upsetting that you’re trying to be supportive and give me compliments and try to find out why I’m upset so what I really need you to do right now is fuck me senseless while also sitting quietly in the next room not talking to me or looking at me. Once you’ve figured out how to achieve this, please let me know._

Somehow that didn’t feel like it would be helpful.

Tyler let his hand drop on top of Fandango’s, turning it over and interlacing their fingers together. “Nothing. C’mere and fix that.”

It was probably the worst pick-up line of his life. It was made worse by the fact that Fandango looked genuinely confused, like he hadn’t realized the obviously really clever double-entendre and was trying to figure out what Tyler was talking about. After thirty seconds of watching his boyfriend try to puzzle through it, Tyler let out a needlessly dramatic sigh, and pulled at Fandango’s hand gently, coaxing him in for a kiss.

The touch of Fandango’s lips was soft but fleeting, over before Tyler could decide whether he really was in the mood for it or not. He met Fandango’s eye as they parted, his brow furrowing and turning the “cute” pout into what was probably a really sexy scowl.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tyler said. “I just…”

“I’ll leave you alone if you want,” Fandango offered, and since Tyler had told him he wanted to be left alone, like, five whole minutes ago, that wasn’t exactly encouraging.

Then again, he had said it knowing full well that he didn’t actually want to be left alone, and the idea that Fandango knew that was both really irritating and… something else. Tyler wasn’t quite ready to call it love, but it definitely made him feel a surge of something very much like affection.

“I’m just being a shit,” Tyler admitted with another sigh, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Tell me I’m cute some more. I’ll stop eventually.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Tyler ran over his own words again in his head. “I meant I’ll stop being a shit eventually. Not that I’d stop being cute.”

“So did I.”

Tyler sat bolt upright at that, and made like he was going to smack at Fandango with one of the delicately embroidered cushions (not that he would have; they were far too expensive for that, but maybe Fandango didn’t know that), but Fandango had already rolled across the room out of Tyler’s reach. Tyler could feel the smile on his own lips, and that was really annoying because he was just starting to hit his groove and was ready to be in a bad mood all night if he had to, but the glow in Fandango’s eye made his heart melt a little. Fandango looked so sincerely happy to have brought a smile to Tyler’s face, however fleetingly, and the idea of that made Tyler’s knees feel a little weak.

He still didn’t quite know what it was, but he was prepared to admit that it was pretty nice.


End file.
